Hello! It is I, Helga. I have not for a long time added to the blog of my father, so I would like to do this. I am, of course, fluent in French and German (I also have a smattering of Italian), but my English is a little, how you say it, “rusty,” so I will use this opportunity to practice my English.
What is new in my family? Well, the most vexing question of today is this: Does my dad look like a famous professor at Harvard, where students go to become incredibly wealthy internet entrepreneurs (this means in English “people who start their own business and then buy up everyone else’s business”), or does he look like a graduate of the University of Guelph, where students go to become knowledgeable about fertilizers and husbandry? Many of our relatives have “weighed in” (metaphysically speaking) to this debate. I don’t really care because in my future career as dancer/supermodel/Jeopardy contestant, it will only be important for my dad to look like me. You be the judge:
Looks like my dad? I don’t think so.
My dad looks as good as me? For sure!
Heinrich, stop biting! It is not seemly for future dancers/supermodels/Jeopardy contestants to have bite marks on their otherwise flawless skin. And get a haircut! I have had my hair cut several times and it just keeps growing back. You will not lose your hair like our father did because he did not get the right genes, which were mistakenly given to our Uncle Tom.
What else is new? Well, I used to want to be a princess but since my grandmère Lisa has been reading to me about the Princess in Black, I have decided that being a princess is way too much work. Always with the monsters that eat the goats! Why does she not move to a safer neighborhood, like my cousin Zoe and my cousin Maya, who are moving to Oakridge? There are very few monsters in Oakridge, outside of the ones who attend Oakridge Secondary School. And the Princess in Black has to ride on a horse. In Germany we have Audis and Mercedes and BMWs (not Volkswagens—those are for the serfs); we do not ride on horses.
In my class at school, I am often mistaken for American. This is more horrible than being on a horse. Everyone knows that Americans are crazy and virus-ridden. (This does not mean that they ride on the viruses like on the horses. English is a weird language.) Every night I am made to promise my parents not to move to America when I am a famous dancer/supermodel/Jeopardy contestant. There are monsters in America. Who would ever move there? Better that Heinrich bites me than that I move to America. Perhaps I will move to Oakridge, where my cousin Zoe and my cousin Maya are going. I would have a lot to teach them about being a dancer or supermodel, but not a Jeopardy contestant because I don’t need that kind of competition.
Grandpère Mike says that I should not be a “smart aleck” because then people will not like me so much. However, being a smart aleck will be useful when I am bantering with Ken Jennings after he replaces Alex. Also, it will make me a very good host of Der Schwächste fliegt! I can use my smart aleck look and say, “Da wollen wir doch mal sehen, wer unsere kostbare Studioluft lang genug weggeatmet hat!” I will wear the Princess in Black outfit and instead of chasing monsters I will chase the Schwächste off the stage. What fun, is it not so? (Excuse my French.)
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